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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29608320">Burning For You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tables/pseuds/Tables'>Tables</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Need for Speed (Video Games), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Because of Reasons, Blood and Injury, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Car Accidents, Car Chases, Cars, Gamer Hours, I hate myself, I liked Glass Animals before Dream had 1 mil, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Long, M/M, Minor Violence, Need For Speed AU, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Philza is a mechanic, Possible smut, Power Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), References to Burnout Paradise, Remember Burnout?, Rivals to Lovers, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, So is Wilbur, Street Racing, Tags Are Fun, The Author Regrets Everything, They don't meet until chapter 3, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Tubbo is homeless, Tubbo is younger than Tommy, Why Did I Write This?, Yea it's weak now, but it isn't that bad, canon family dynamics, car crashes, just you wait bud, no beta we die like men, no cap, when i say slow burn i mean slow burn, yea me neither</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:14:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,828</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29608320</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tables/pseuds/Tables</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't even ship these two, I was just playing the new Need For Speed game and wondered what the Dream SMP would be like in a NFS AU, and Dnf was kind of a given. Also I want to write more. So this was a good opportunity to write and get clout. </p><p>...</p><p>In this city, racing matters the most, but the night scene proves too fast for the local enforcement to handle. Or is it? </p><p>Dream's a new rookie in town, hearing the stories of the city, he wanted a fresh start from his past. His goal to forget his baggage is to chase an adrenaline high, but in the end, it reminds him of the pain he wanted so badly to move on from.</p><p>George has lived in the city since he was young, moving there from Britain when he was small. Ever since, he had a deep fascination of racing. This followed him into his teenage years where he started to participate in night racing. Each day that went by he got better at racing and more importantly, avoiding the law.</p><p>This is a story where two souls find more of themselves in each other, and build their family along the way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo/TommyInnit, dreamnotfound - Relationship, hinted Toby Smith | Tubbo/Tommyinnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Citrumelo/gifts">Citrumelo</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Reds and oranges, the colors of the setting sky, Dream would have to get used to not seeing them anymore. In this city the buildings truly touched the clouds, blocking out so much of the beauty of the day changing. At least the more suburban area Dream moved from had very little light pollution, he was able to make out the brighter stars in the twilight hours of night, dotting it with an expanse of freckles. He liked glancing over the spots, each one gave the sky another element of personification. Between the day and night, clearly the sky was a whole person.</p><p>With a half-heartened sigh, Dream popped a stock mint into his mouth and unlocked the hotel door, the outside already felt freezing against his back. The leather of his jacket and the thick denim of his jeans did little in breaking the cold seeping into his skin. He shut the door behind himself with his foot, unhooking his backpack from his shoulder and carelessly throwing it onto the queen bed in the center of the room. Dream rove his eyes over his surroundings distractedly, noting the unseemly carpet design and the yellowed lighting. </p><p>Tugging at his jacket, his thoughts wandered to the sky again, the city's endless man-made monuments and blazing neon markers and signs made it impossible to appreciate it's pretty features. The way it beckons so sweet-like, the dangerous line to cross. Man is bound to Earth, to forever admire space from afar, and to try to take flight is selfish of Man. Yet here Dream is, wishing he could learn to fly a plane if to touch the atmosphere. Instead, he dug out his toothbrush and padded into the bathroom to get ready for bed. </p><p>He figured he wouldn't get a lot of sleep like usual. Dream would lay in the many beds he's been in the last few days, hand reaching and brushing the place next to him on the mattress. It's been a couple of years since he last saw her, yet he still longingly stared at the passenger seat in his couped-up McLaren as if hoping to have <em>someone<em> appear next to him. He sighed at the mirror, dragging himself from his thoughts by splashing water onto his face. Locating the towel, he skimmed over his features. Dream looks bad.</em></em></p><p>Eye bags and dark circles, hair unruly and unkempt, clothes wrinkly and loose on his frame. Dream almost didn't recognize himself, if it wasn't for the fact that he's now used to seeing himself in this state that is. How long has it been since he saw a smile on his face? His ragged appearance reminded Dream of some of the homeless that wandered his hometown. In a way, he's just like them. </p><p>Homeless in every sense of the word, no family or place to stay, he's lost and alone and constantly thinking, "what's next?" </p><p>If he's learned one thing is that when he starts pondering the meaning of his existence it's time for bed. Blinking, he realizes it's late, Dream throws the hand towel onto the bathroom counter and rubs his jaw. Padding back out of the bright space, he finds he was in there for over twenty minutes. Grunting and mumbling obscenities to himself under his breath, he stripped to his underclothes and unceremoniously fell onto the cheap mattress. </p><p>...</p><p>Too soon was his phone alarm going off next to his head on the nightstand, Dream forgetting to plug it in the night before. With a groan, he stood on shaky legs and turned it off with more force than he intended. Glancing at the battery, he grudgingly plugged it in and decided to leave it. There's no point in bringing a dead phone with him, especially when there'll be no one attempting to contact him. Dream groggily pawed at his eyes and tried to locate where he threw his clothes. Once he was grabbing his keys he realized he would want his phone to play music in his car.</p><p>Resigned, he grabbed it again and left the small motel room, giving himself a quick pat down at the door to make sure he had everything. Once in the parking lot, Dream found himself giving his super car a once over. Not a scratch or dent marred the paint, the rims still in perfect condition. Clearly the rumors about the city turned out to be true. </p><p>People here really did care more about cars than anything else. </p><p>Trash littered the parking lot, no longer under the guise of night to hide the many marked walls around the motel. The only kind of vandalism in sight was on the couple-stories high building itself. Judging from the amount of other vehicles scattered around the lot, Dream knew that there must've been a lot of people around, yet the many sports and non-sports parked and aimlessly driving around the building showed no sign of damage. In Dream's hometown, he was used to waking up to find windows smashed in or shipped paint on his old McLaren.</p><p>He could really get used to this place.</p><p>Dream lifted his eyes to admire the sky for a second, the few clouds and swatches of blue peaking from tall buildings and reflective glass from the downtown area. He already missed the sky. Soon enough he was back to lightly jogging towards the low racer and climbing in, plugging his phone into the jack and picking a playlist. Tapping his steering wheel in time to the song, Dream thought critically of his new home. There were positives and negatives.</p><p>Here he could fit in more with people, everyone's love of cars and racing clicked better with Dream, but that didn't guarantee his ability to make friends. He's always been a bit of a loner, people didn't approach him and he didn't approach them. It was a wonder he got that far with her.</p><p>Dream shook his head, stopping his thoughts to redirect them. This time he'll try, he'll make friends, he'll be successful. Not to mention that money he can earn from racing. All he has to do is make sure he gets his spoiled McLaren outfitted as best as he can currently afford. It may not be much this time around, but Dream's previous work on the supercar should be enough to make some sparks. </p><p>Just in time for his song to end, he was pulling into the autobody garage, colorful spray paint art decorating the walls and the doors barely peaking from the ceiling. The entrance wide and gaping, pulling inside the roof seemed two stories away, confirmed by the stairs and catwalk by the side of the space. If he squinted, he could make out an "Employee's Only" sign posted on a door leading into a different part of the building. A man with a ugly green polo and bucket hat straightened from his position over a Mustang's engine, turning his head at the purring newcomer vehicle and letting out a low whistle in appreciation. </p><p>Climbing out, Dream was met with the man offering a kind smile, "Welcome! You must be new around here," he said, voice warm.</p><p>Dream nodded and held out a hand, "Dream, my name is Dream."</p><p>The man, Philza, took it, "Nice to meet you, I'm Philza. How can I help you?"</p><p>"I was just looking to outfit my baby as much as I can right now, gonna enter her in a few of your famous routes."</p><p>"We can do that, let's take a look at her," Philza opened the hood and glanced over his shoulder, "Wilbur!" Dream followed his eyes farther into the shop where a tall man in a beanie was polishing the top of a Nissan. Wilbur looked up and hurried over, abandoning his task for later.</p><p>"Yea?"</p><p>Philza returned to the sport's engine, eyebrows raising, "Get my good toolbox, we got some work to do." Wilbur nodded to himself and started towards the back wall, sparing a little smile towards Dream as he went. "Take a seat, Dream, she's in good hands. I'll call you over when I'm done."</p><p>Dream glanced around to find a sitting area under the cat walk, a filled trophy case and a small wall TV decorating the space. He padded over and sat, immediately turning his attention to the TV, which was currently on a news channel. The newcomer could hardly focus on it, but could make out that the new head of the police was making a speech on how he and his task force was going to crack down on night racing, ending it one for all. </p><p>Dream snorted to himself, thinking how they were in for a treat. Him and his McLaren are going to give them a run for their money.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ayo I'm back, don't know for how long tho. My depression really do be hitting different.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sounds of metal grinding on metal was too much of a noise soup blur for Dream to realize that it had ended. He was brought away from his mindless Twitter scrolling by the same draped green garments from before. Looking up, the kind face of Philza smiled at him as he patiently waited. He felt a semblance of guilt wash over him as he sheepishly put away his phone.</p>
<p>"Sorry, next time just yell at me."</p>
<p>Philza waved him off, "Don't worry about it, I understand! I changed a couple of parts for you, wanna come look?" Dream nodded and stood from the couch, following the mechanic towards his McLaren, where Wilbur was just finishing wiping the windows. When they got close enough, Philza picked up a clipboard from a large toolbox, pointing to parts of the car. "I updated your nitrous kit, adjusted your suspension, replaced your turbo driver, and gave you some speedcross adjusters. Does all that sound good?"</p>
<p>Dream nodded, offering a small smile, "Sounds perfect. You seem like you've lived here for a while," Wilbur seemed to brighten behind Philza, walking past the two blondes quickly, "do you know much about the races around here?"</p>
<p>The mechanic tilted his head, as if thinking, "I used to, but my son would know more about the current events." Philza gestured to behind Dream, a smile seemingly always dancing across his face. Dream turned to look, only to be met with Wilbur hugging a tall man. He had long neon pink hair and two lip pierces, his eyes showed a dead emotion where a genuine grin stretched across his face. </p>
<p>Once Wilbur pulled away, Philza offered the newcomer a less jubilant embrace, the tall man taking it graciously. The three talked for a few seconds, a shining star of family dynamics, before Dream found it in him to spoil their short reunion. </p>
<p>Softly padding over, Dream was immediately welcomed by Philza, "Dream, this is my other son, Technoblade. He participates in a lot of racing, he can be your guide."</p>
<p>Technoblade gave a playful huff, "Volunteer me, why don't ya? Fine, but I won't go easy on him," He turned to Dream and offered a hand, "You can call me Techno, they call me the Blade in the streets so don't be surprised."</p>
<p>Dream took up his hand, "My name is Dream. I'm pretty new around here, I was hoping to start racing soon." Techno nodded, crossing his arms.</p>
<p>"I can help ya, just depends on a few things," Techno supplied before turning back to Philza and Wilbur, "Where's Tommy?"</p>
<p>Wilbur spoke up this time, "On another date, he should be back by the time you complete the coast side one." Philza chuckled lightly in agreement. </p>
<p>"Tubbo is so spoiled," the oldest man said proudly.</p>
<p>Wilbur grinned, "So's Tommy, they're both so spoiled. Especially by George!" Techno rolled his eyes and shifted on his feet.</p>
<p>"Oh don't get me started on George," Philza shot him a half-hearted dirty look, Techno raising his hands in defense, "I'm just saying he could tone it down, those boys get everything they want from him."</p>
<p>Dream glanced between them all, giving Philza a questioning look, "Who's George?"</p>
<p>All three turned back to Dream like they forgot he was there, "Oh sorry, George is Sam's kid."</p>
<p>The younger blonde blinked owlishly, "Sam?"</p>
<p>"Sam is the local car dealer, in fact, the only one in town. Palm City's finest cars come from there," Wilbur supplied kindly, "George is his son, you can imagine what he's like." Dream shook his head, prompting Techno to take over.</p>
<p>"They're British, rich, and have access to the best cars and parts you can get ya hands on. George tends to give away a lot his money though, mostly to my younger brother and Tubbo. He's pretty nice, and he owns the night scene." </p>
<p>Wilbur gave Techno an eyebrow waggle, "You admit George is better than you at racing?" Techno huffed and gave his brother a shove, starting to roughhouse naturally. Philza watched them for a second before turning back to Dream when he started to talk.</p>
<p>"So, how many sons do you have?"</p>
<p>Philza placed a hand on his face, a fond look forming on his face, "I have three, they're all adopted. Wilbur and Techno are the same age, they were inseparable at the clinic so I adopted both. Tommy's my youngest, he's seventeen. His parents died when he was two so I took him in, those two," Philza gestured to the grown men trying to tackle each other by the garage entrance, "took to Tommy so well. They all got along so well, it's a blessing they still do."</p>
<p>"Who's Tubbo then," Dream asked thoughtfully, concerned about Philza's emotion change. After a moment he realized it was teasing.</p>
<p>"Tubbo is Tommy's little friend. He's 16, and he's an orphan like Tommy, but he wasn't admitted to the orphanage."</p>
<p>"Meaning?"</p>
<p>"Tubbo's homeless, but he stays with us, and Tommy spoils him more than George. As soon as Tommy found him, he spent every bit of his allowance on Tubbo. They're partners in every bit of the sense, they're on a date right now actually."</p>
<p>Dream blinked, taking in all of this information, "You're very open about all this," he observed. </p>
<p>Philza sighed softly, "Yea, I guess so. I think I'm just hoping you'll stick around. The boys always love meeting new people. I taught them to be honest and open, even when it makes them vulnerable. I never lied to them about their past, and they don't lie to me," Philza grinned, "at least I hope so." </p>
<p>Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Wilbur getting slammed onto the ground, a wheezing laugh escaping him as he went. He quickly scrambled up, Techno laughing as he tried to run away, Wilbur proving to be faster as he jumped onto the taller's back. His beanie now rested on the floor, his brown halo flopping from place to place as Techno swung around wildly in an attempt to dislodge him, a lopsided grin on his face the entire time. </p>
<p>Philza shook his head lightly, cupping his mouth with his hands, "BOYS!" Both stopped in their tracks, Wilbur losing his grip and falling on his ass. Techno straightened and saluted, Wilbur trying to follow suite from the cement floor. "Didn't you have a race to get to? Bring Dream with you," he turned back to said man, "Good luck against my boys, but I think you can put them in their place."</p>
<p>Dream gave his first genuine smile in a while, "That sounds like a plan to me."</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Second place isn't so bad.</p>
<p>It was Techno's drilling is what got to him.</p>
<p>"I need to know what I'm working with here. Have you raced before? How much experience do you have with your car? Do you know how to drift? Is your car automatic? Where do you live?"</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>"This is a beginner's race, so I hope to see you perform. Good luck."</p>
<p>Now sitting in the lineup, Dream felt pride swelling up in him. He didn't beat the Blade, he was sitting in first with his Audi R8 V10, but sitting second was good enough for him. The photo shoots and other end-of-the-race nonsense seemed to stretch for hours, but Techno guided him through it. Once they were finally done, Techno approached him, silently handing him a small black box, gesturing to Dream's McLaren's console.</p>
<p>"What is this?"</p>
<p>Techno rolled his eyes, "A radio, stupid. We use it to talk to each other. It's already set on the channel we use, it's also rigged to use police channels one way," he replied, pushing it into the blonde's hands, "It's important to use mostly at night. You'll see. Either way, from the amount of times we traded paint, I think you've earned it." Dream glanced it over, wondering why he would need it. By the time he looked up, Techno was walking back to his supercar, twirling his keys in his hand and looking at him from over his shoulder.</p>
<p>"Come on, Dream, let's go home."</p>
<p>"Home," Dream parroted in confusion.</p>
<p>Techno grinned, "Home."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A lot of shite in my life rn, so expect slow updates. I'll do my best but like I said, lot's of shite. I'm busy dealing with everything you can name (exaggerated but you get the gist.) </p><p>Still, I hope you enjoy this fun ride this'll be, once I get these out anyway.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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